Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Life Goes On
A week ago I planned to get back to blogging. Then I sat down at my computer, and the words wouldn't come. I tried the next day, and then the next, but nothing. Every time I started to write, I cried instead.
Over the weekend we visited my uncle, who is very sick with end-stage cancer. Two of his children are due to have baby girls within the next few weeks, so the family gathered for a mega baby shower. Even though he was in obvious pain, Uncle didn't want to miss a thing, so he moved to the couch, right in the middle of all the action. As we watched the little ones running around, high on sugar and whooping it up, Uncle smiled at me and said "this is what it's all about. Life goes on. Look for something good every day. It's there."
He's right. Life goes on. In the middle of all the sadness in our days right now, there's goodness too. For me, part of that goodness is this blog. I love writing, and connecting with all of you. I need to get back here. I hope it will be part of the healing process - writing about the beauty of the Christmas season and all the little things that make this a magical time of year.
My dad had a difficult time with life, and our relationship was far from perfect. Despite all that, I loved him very much. And I know that he loved me, my husband, and my children. That's what I choose to remember about him.
My blue eyes, sense of humor, and empathy came from my father. I hope that I always live my life being as generous as he was. He had a kind heart and a giving soul.
When I look at my boys, I see so much of my dad in them. C got his red hair and love of cars. T received his love of music (Mamma Mia, Supertramp, or Neil Diamond, anyone?) and fishing from grandpa.
I will miss my father every day for the rest of my life. I keep expecting to pick up the phone and hear him say "Hi, it's daaaaaaaad". I'll be going about my business, and suddenly I smack into a brick wall of remembering that he's really gone. A part of me died with him, but I know so many good parts of him have stayed behind.
And life goes on.
And so will I.